


I dunno what to call this so just take it.

by Brookespinkberry



Series: Musical Theatre Fluff [3]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Fluff, Gay, M/M, Sickfic, wow i wrote this in 17 minutes ugh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 13:40:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15909354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brookespinkberry/pseuds/Brookespinkberry
Summary: Sick Boi. Soft Boi. Artist Michael, sick Jeremy. Nuff said.





	I dunno what to call this so just take it.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow ok this is bad but I wrote this in a short time so I could update. I’ll have a better one tomorrow and possibly a Dear Evan Hansen oneshot.

Michael didn’t plan on ending up like this. He was living in upstate New York, struggling as an artist. He had a his big wintertime project due in a week, and he’d barely finished the sketches. He was really excited to work on this, since it was abstract and texture focused. 

He began mixing his paints, and getting out the texture brushes and pills (there are these little things you put in paint to make textures I don’t know if that’s what they’re called) to really make his piece stand out. (and up, heh.) 

He’d put his gesso on the canvas, and had started to paint, when the door clicked open. Jeremy, the tip of his nose and cheeks flushed from the cold. “H-hey babe,” Jeremy said, unwrapping his scarf and peeling off his coat, “How was class?”

“Good,” Michael said, “you ok? You look….sick?” 

“Just a cold or something. Stupid flu bug going around the class.” 

“Hmm,” Michael said, finishing his brushstroke and setting his brush in his cup. He went over to Jeremy, brushing his wet hair back to feel his head. “You’re warm.” Michael frowned. 

“No,” Jeremy argued, burying his face in the crook of Michael’s neck, “I’m Jeremy.” He mumbled, breathing in the familiar scent off of his boyfriend. Paint, pencil shavings, weed and 7/11. 

“Shush,” He said, running his hands through the back of Jeremy’s hair, making it stand up, “come to bed. My project can wait.”

“No,” he said, looking up at Michael, “you need to finish. Education comes first.”

“Fuck education.” He said, exasperated with Jeremy. “You’re my boyfriend. Bed. Now.” He ordered, letting go of Jeremy’s neck. 

Jeremy groaned, trudging to the bedroom. He took off his outfit, throwing the cold,damp clothes to the middle of the floor. He changed into his pajamas, a pair of grey flannel pants Michael bought him, and no shirt. He felt too hot for a shirt.

Michael came back into the room once Jeremy changed, with water and drugs. He held out the pills to Jeremy, and he took them. He swallowed with a pained wince, even with the water. 

“It hurts,” He whispered, swallowing thickly. He leaned back into the mountain of pillows, sighing. 

“I know,” Michael said, “just go to sleep, and it’ll feel better.”

“Promise?” 

“Double donut promise.” Michael said, winking. He watched Jeremy toss and turn, until he fell asleep, wrapped in his blue and grey duvet. 

Jeremy shot up, heaving in bed. The clock blinked 3:07 AM, and Michael was still awake. Coughs tore at his throat, burning his lungs and causing tears to leak from the corners of his eyes. Michael jumped from his stool, rushing to Jeremy. He sat next to him, rubbing his back. 

When the coughs finally slowed, he finally took the water off the stand and offered it to Jeremy. Jeremy sipped at it slowly, and Michael worried he’d drop the glass. His fingers were shaking and slipping off the edge of the cup. He looked miserable. 

“C-can you make it stop?” Jeremy whined softly, his eyes dull and glazed over. 

“Just gotta let it get better, babe.” Michael said, pulling Jeremy close. “Do you wanna try and take another pill?” 

Jeremy shook his head no. And cough syrup was out of the question. Last time he’d tried cough syrup, it ended up on the floor along with his lunch. So Michael could only offer drinks and pills. Like a sad, sad drug pusher in a seedy bar. 

Jeremy laid his head in Michael’s lap, and Michael froze. He tried not to move too much, since he didn’t want to disturb Jeremy. He played with Jeremy’s hair, and rubbed circles on the small of his back. He occasionally felt Jeremy slip into a sneezing fit, his back tensing and releasing, leaving Jeremy a drippy nosed mess. 

Michael had been focused on the mind-crushingly dull cable tv that was playing, he hadn’t noticed Jeremy falling asleep. Michael kissed his boyfriend on the back of the head, sliding his head on a pillow when he got up. He went to his own bed, taking off his glasses. He rolled over, but couldn’t sleep.

He went back over to Jeremy’s bed, crawling in next to him. He let Jeremy curl against him, and fell asleep to the soft snores next to him.


End file.
